


Big Jet Plane

by lenfantduvendredi (orphan_account)



Series: Pages Upon Pages [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Not a Crossover, Stiles seems like an SPN guy to me, Supernatural (TV) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lenfantduvendredi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be easy to just turn tail and go home...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Jet Plane

Stiles shifts uncomfortably in the seat that he claimed outside the gate his flight would be leaving out of. Plastic this rigid should be a crime. The airport should honestly invest in comfortable armchairs or something. 

Except, maybe not. Too many people would fall asleep in them and miss flights, then there would have to be all sorts of refunds, and that just lost money. Amused, Stiles smiles to himself at the thought of the chaos that his initial idea would create, shifting and subsequently flailing to hurriedly catch his laptop before it took a fatal fall to the floor. Looking around to see if anybody had witnessed that horribly embarrassing motion, he’s satisfied to find that nobody seemed to be paying attention.

Ejecting the disc from his laptop, Stiles removes Merlin and places it carefully in the sleeve, back in its rightful place in his extensive CD binder. Flipping through a few pages, he stops on Supernatural. There was an episode with planes, right? Was this a bad idea, or an awesome idea?

He removes the first disc of the first season, popping it into his computer and hurriedly shoving the bulky case of DVDs back into his laptop bag while the disc loaded. He probably wouldn’t have time to do an entire SPN rewatch, but he could sure as hell get in a season or two.

He fast forwards through Mary’s death, only because he can’t bear to think about house fires and killing people who were loved, especially someone’s mother. He sits quietly, earbuds in, trying not to think of the implications of Constance Welch’s voice on that EVP.

 _I can never go home._ The thought makes him feel so sick, and he sympathizes with this particularly fictional Woman in White. He can never go home either.

A while later, he’s fast-forwarding through Jess’ death. Fires again, and he doesn’t want to think about Hales, fires, or Beacon Hills right now.

It’s really too bad that the next episode is Wendigo. He thinks back on when one wandered into Beacon Hills. It’d been… It’d been bad. After the first five missing people, his dad finally rounded on the pack and asked what the hell was there, what was going on, and what he could do to help. Derek had told him to stay out of it, which had led to snarling and yelling, and Stiles had to step in to stop his- To stop Derek from getting arrested again. It had taken them something like half the effort it took the Winchester brothers, but there were also more of them. And the Argents and his father had helped out.

He clicks straight to episode three, watching until the girl is pulled under the surface of the lake. He flinches, reminded of Matt. Everything seems to be drawing him back to Beacon Hills, both the good parts and the bad, memories and moments that shaped who he was now, sitting alone in that airport. Maybe he’d continue watching if it wasn’t Dead in the Water.

Horribly uncomfortable, he clicks to episode four, promptly closing his laptop closed when he realizes that the fourth episode is Phantom Traveler. Besides the fact that he’d greatly disliked that episode to begin with, he was going to board a plane soon. Eventually. Sometime that night. Not the episode that he needed to watch. Moving his headphones from his laptop to his iPod, he shoved his laptop into his backpack, rubbing his hands furiously over his face.

He didn’t want to be sitting there. He wanted to go home! It wouldn’t be too hard to board the next plane to California and drive back to Beacon Hills, would it?

Thinking it over, Stiles decides that getting food sounds like a better idea, and what better to eat in an airport than greasy, Americanized Chinese food? There’d been a place in the concourse, and if he was right, it was still open.

And there was a Starbucks not too far from it, too. He could get coffee and completely unhealthy food. That was much better than making impulsive choices to head home.

The line for the Chinese food is a lot longer than the nonexistent line for Starbuck, so Stiles decides get his coffee first. The baristas behind the counter perk up when he comes over, a guy taking the counter to ring him up.

“I’ll have a triple shot mocha, aaaaand,” Stiles huffs out a breath that puffs up his cheeks momentarily. “A caramel macchiato.”

The guy gives him a weird look, but rings him up anyway. Stiles rolls his eyes and uses the time between ordering his drink and receiving it to pull out his iPod and scroll through his music selection.

“Sir, your order,” one of the girls behind the counter says, catching his attention. He drapes the cord of his earbud over his ear, shoving his iPod into his hoodie pocket before he scoops up the drinks. By the time he reaches the front of the line for his food, he’s finished the mocha, the empty cardboard cup sticking out of his pocket. He ends up getting the last of the chow mein sitting it the steam plate, green bean chicken, and orange chicken, and extra soy sauce packets just in case.

Posting a picture of his purchase with some witty caption –directed at his father- on Instagram, Stiles ties the bag off, ditches his empty cup, and sets to wandering about the concourse for the next however long it took for the delays to stop.

There were tons of shops open, surely he could find something to send home. Nothing said ‘I miss you’ like stupid, touristy souvenirs.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is significantly shorter than I wanted, but my computer overheated and I lost the entirety of what I'd written.  
> Anyway. I feel like Stiles would be a Supernatural kind of guy, and he has an Instagram because he thinks it's funny, and all the captions on his pictures are inside jokes.


End file.
